Battle of the Moves
by Hirikari
Summary: The Akuma, AKA the newest club in town and the holder of the long-awaited Break Dancing Competition in Paris! Each team has four members, and the two leading teams - Cataclysm and Lucky Charm - go head to head in this showdown. Not only that, but they train in the same building! What will the team captains do when they find themselves in a predicament between victory and desire?
1. Chapter 1

Two things had happened that day.

One, Nino was begging for everyone to do late-nights escapes from their houses to go clubbing. Two, Marinette was hot as hell.

It was a normal morning at school and Marinette was, for once, not late for class. She had woken up when her alarm clock fired off its first tune. She hadn't spilled the milk. Her homework was perfection. She had a good hair day and her pigtails were in place a lot faster than usual. Walking through the hall, she expected the day to be all sunshine and rainbows. Her strides were tinged with happy skips and her bag swung in time with her whistles. Luck was in her hands, she thought.

She caught sight of blond hair from the corner of her eye. She jumped and instinctively scrambled behind a pilar.

Adrien didn't notice her presence as he kept his attention on the book in his hand. He gracefully climbed up the stairs and smiled at a few students who bid him good morning. Still reading, he nudged their classroom door open and entered, letting the wood close behind him.

Marinette sighed before straightening up and adjusted her bag over her shoulder. Adrien, the son and only heir to a prestigious dancing academy owner, Gabriel Agreste. The academy itself was a high-class college for people who wanted to pursue a career in traditional dancing, waltz, tango, and ballet. Everyone knew that he excelled at all of them. Heck, he could even pull off the ballet classes and have the girls there running for their money and _still_ look sexy. Everyone also knew that he was the nicest guy at school, and yet she couldn't find the willpower inside her to croak out a hello. It was ridiculous. He was her classmate for goodness sake. Sure, he was popular, smart, talented, hot, had a grin that could beat the Paris lights, muscular arms that could carry any woman's heart, and eyes that could burn your soul in the sweetest of ways, but he was still a normal student. That was way beyond their world and universe. But a student nonetheless.

She took a long beath through her nose and followed his trail. She was going to talk to him beofre class started. She was going to ─

Alya's banshee-squeal penetrated her senses like a knife.

Closing her ears, she watched as her best friend bounced up and down in front of her. Her glasses were hanging low on her nose that Marinette worried it might fall off considering how badly her friend was vibrating. Her bottom lip was trapped between her teeth, clearly trying to hold back another squeal. She was looking at something on the wall. But before she could even glance at it, Nino emerged from out of nowhere and draped an arm around Marinette. "Dude, you made it!" He said happily.

"Um, of course I made it," Marinette murmured uncertainly, "it's _school_ , afterall."

"Good, good." He nodded. Marinette got the feeling that he didn't really hear her. "Say, I got news for you! Tomorrow night, ten sharp, club downtown. You comin', right?"

Marinette blinked up at him like he had asked her to swallow his sock.

"Let me ellaborate." He clapped his hands and rubbed them together gleefuly. "Ya see─"

"A Battle of the Moves!" Alya interupted. She bounded forward and hitched an arm at the opposite side of her best friend. "Can you believe it, Marinette? It's happening!"

"Yo, Alya, quit stealing my thunder!" Nino barked. " _I_ was gonna tell her!"

"Uh, in case you haven't noticed, four eyes, _I'm_ her best friend and _I'm_ telling her!" She tugged her arm left arm.

"I got to her first!" Nino tugged her right arm. "And in case _you_ haven't noticed, you're a four eyes, too!"

"My glasses are way better than yours, ultimate four eyes!" Alya tugged again.

"Okay, _stop_!" Marinette yanked and moved so she was facing the both of them and well away from their aggresive grip. Rubbing the spots they had held, she continued sourly, "What is up with you guys?"

"A Battle of the Moves!" They both said in union.

"Yes, I heard it since Alya practically screamed it in my ear. But what is it?"

"There's this sick club in town that's holding _the best_ contest in Paris history." Alya said. "You won't believe who's gonna be the DJ."

"Yours truly." Nino bowed dramatically.

"Really?" Marinette beamed and patted her friend on the shoulder. "That's awesome news! No one knows music better than you!"

"Thank you." He smirked. "I auditioned last week and finally got my first gig. It's just for a few rounds, but still."

"Trust me, once you blast them with the first song, they'll be begging you for an encore." She turned to Alya. "No wonder you're in such a hyper mood. You must be so proud of him."

"What?" Her expression turned perplexed before understanding dawned on her. "Oh, no, no, no! I was thrilled with the other half of the news!"

Nino shot her a look.

"N-Not that I'm not happy for you, Nino!" She hurriedly added. "Come on, you know I'm just as excited for you! But seriously, Marinette, I have one big question for you and you've gotta answer it right now, got it?" She nodded. "Alright. Ready?" She slid sideways to reveal a poster. The background was dark, painted with multi-colored highlights in the shape of graffiti. Being someone with a creative side, Marinette took the time to marvel at the art. There was a drawing of a few DJs, and she guessed the one with glasses was Nino, to her delight. At the corner was a disco ball that seemed to produce starry lights across the surface. Musical notes danced around the words, and indications like foot prints flowed alongside it. Finally, she let her gaze focus on the information it had for her.

 _BATTLE OF THE MOVES_

 _DO YOU HAVE WHAT IT TAKES TO BRING HOME THOUSANDS OF EUROS?_

Her breath momentarily stuttered in her throat and she mentally forced her mind to race through the sentences.

 _BREAK-DANCE YOUR WAY TO THE TOP AND BATTLE AGAINST OTHER TEAMS TO SHOW THAT YOU DO!_

 _EACH TEAM CONSISTS OF FOUR MEMBERS, GENDER-FREE AND RANGING FROM TODDLERS TO PENSIONERS. PREPARE YOURSELVES A KICK-ASS GROUP NAME AND SIGN UP AT THE ADDRESS DOWN BELOW._

 _THE RULES? SIMPLE! JUST DON'T TELL US YOUR REAL NAMES!_

Marinette couldn't help raising a confused eyebrow at the last sentence. At the bottom it read: _The Akuma_. She guessed that it was the club that Nino had mentioned the first time. There was a date, a time, and specific instructions on how to get there.

"So?" Alya prompted. "You _are_ joining my team, aren't you?"

"I never said that!" Marinette tried to look away, but the stern air around her made it almost impossible to do so. "I-I know we dance sometimes during lunch but─"

"Marinette, you are so good! Hell, you're a demon when it comes to the dance floor!"

"She's got a point, you know." Nino shrugged.

"This is what we've been dreaming about since we first listened to hip-hop, girl!" She took hold of her hands then. "We could dance our hearts out! Oh, Nino gave me a demo of the music he's gonna play and it's off the charts! The beat, the energy, the atmosphere ─ you won't even believe it's real!"

"Alya," Marinette's shoulders slumped despite the roaring storm in her head. Dancing. Loud music. Freedom. If all that wasn't enough to tempt her (and it absolutely did), then the promise of money had her drooling. Thousands of Euros? For doing what she loved? Was that sort of chance even possible? In what felt like decades, her heart soared. To be able to participate in that kind of event, she wondered about how it'd feel like. Letting her body move in time with a song, not caring about reality and just relying on her soul to guide her, it sounded like a miracle. But… "I have a bakery to help run."

The other girl's face fell.

"My mom's sick. You know that. I can't just run off on my parents to practice for this."

"We can make up a schedule!" She insisted. "I'm pretty flexible with my time. We can find two more members who aren't so busy either. We can make it work for you!"

"My shift is from the minute I get home from school until it closes at nine."

"We still have lunch, goddammit! We can squeeze in a few sessions and─"

"What, fifteen minutes a day to practice? If we were just performing on the streets and our only rival was a mime, then yeah, that could work. But in this kind of contest? We need at least two hours of the day! Choreography, costumes, brainstorming ideas, training; it's going to be a full-time thing and I'm just… not cut out for it." When she saw the disappointment lingering, she clutched her hand in return and gave it a reassuring shake. "That doesn't mean that you can't join. You know I'd cheer you on. Dancing is your passion. You can win."

And it was true. At the age of eleven, they had tried out a dance machine at the local arcade for the first time and it instantly became their most favorite thing to play. Before Sabine, Marinette's mom, fell ill, they used to go every Sunday and spend their leftover money of the week to jump on the tiles for a few hours. At thirteen, they sought the guidance of YouTube and copied the moves of professional break-dancers all over the world. Alya would come over on the weekends to get some moves into their systems. It was great work-out, and the increase of stamina was an added plus for Marinette as she carried packs of flour around the bakery. Just this year, they managed to come up with their own choreography and most of the time it was impromptu. On the rare days that Marinette didn't have to work, they went to the Eiffel Tower with a hat on the ground and entertained the tourists. Applauses would push them to do better and ignite a fire in them that they'd hardly show at school. The shouts of approval and awe would make them forget about their huffing breaths and pull them into a pool of satisfaction. Dancing was _both_ of their passion.

And yet, Marinette still couldn't grab the thread of hope dangling between her eyes.

"You're the best dancer I know." Alya said softly. "You can't expect me to sign up without you. I won't."

"I'm sorry, Alya. The bakery needs me."

"It's always the bakery, Marinette!" She growled before clutching her hair like her head was about to explode. "When are you going to allow yourself to have fun again? I know you're having a hard time, but think about it! We've juggled our time before for the sake of break-dancing and we can do it again. Why not try it? You can't just sit behind a cash register every single day!"

She was about to retort when Nino put a hand on both of their shoulders. "Okay, okay, time out. This was not what I had in mind when I asked you to join." He said. "I just figured that it'd be sick to have the class to watch the show. And I've seen you guys dance. You're good. It'd be even sicker if you sign up for the competition. But _this,_ " he gestured at them vaguely. "Nuh-uh. No arguing. Just forget about the poster and be done with it."

"This isn't just about the dumb competition, Nino." Alya fumed. "She hasn't danced with me for weeks! She even goes as far as going straight to work during lunch break! She forgets to eat sometimes and I have to remind her every single night to get up and drink some water! She's pushing herself so damn hard and I just wanted her to let loose for once."

Marinette snapped her eyes to her shoes. She couldn't handle the look in her eyes anymore. "I'm sorry." She murmured weakly.

Alya whirled around and walked away.

Nino sighed dejectedly. "Sorry about that. She was just so stoked about this whole thing. She'll cool down soon, I guarantee you."

She forced out a smile and nodded. "I guess."

"Hey, the competition still stands. Think about it." He bumped her hip with his playfully. "Now, I gotta scat. I still have to invite as many people as possible. You gonna be okay?"

"Yeah. Go. Congrats again on your gig!" She waved.

Suddenly, she felt a rough hand shove her from behind and nearly tripped on her own feet. Chloe sauntered in, followed by Sabrina. "Ugh, excuse you," Chloe sneered. "What gives you the right to stand in front of the door like that? I had to waste my precious time trying to get around you!"

"Whatever, Chloe." Marinette glared back. "I was just─"

"Perfect timing, dude!" Nino cut in. "Guess who's gonna be the big guy in the club tomorrow night! Me! Yeah, it's me, and the mayor's daughter would so come, right?"

"You mean that lame dance thingy?" She cackled. "I wouldn't be caught dead watching some dorks in harem pants trying to do the worm shuffle. I mean, seriously, it's preposterous! Sweating and all that gross stuff is so not my level."

"Dancing is something that people can enjoy doing," Marinette spat. "You don't need to spend a single Euro to do it. But I guess you wouldn't know 'cause you're practically bathing in it to see that."

"Hey, don't talk to Chloe like that!" Sabrina piped up.

"Sabrina's right. Don't talk to me like that!" Chloe stomped her foot and pointed a finger at her. "So a loser like you is going to participate in that? Oh gosh, if you were, I might just consider going just to see you humiliate yourself!"

"I'm a better dancer than you are, at least."

Chloe threw her head back and laughed. "You? Better than me? Honey, I've been waltzing across the ballroom since I was in diapers! The difference between our dances is that mine has class. It's something that people appreciate and think highly of whereas yours is just so…" she shivered dramatically, "Vulgar."

"Why you little─"

Before she knew it, hands were restraining her from lunging. She squirmed and kicked, screaming incoherent curses. From the flame in her eyes, she could see Chloe's frigid form in the doorway, completely paralyzed and, if she were to guess, fearful. An animalistic urge to claw at her was so great that she would have really done it if it weren't for the multiple students who held her back.

Sabrina was the first to react. The redhead guided her friend away and over to their seat. "Get back here and fight me, Chloe!" Marinette shrieked. "I've had enough of your antics and I swear I'll─"

"Easy, Marinette." A soft voice spoke behind her. "She's not worth it. C'mon, just leave her."

"You expect me to bow down to her every time she insults me?" She grounded out. "She even went as far as insulting─"

Her sentence halted when she realized who she was talking to. Adrien stood there, worried and tense. He held up both palms up like he was surrendering to her wrath. "I know you love dancing." He started. "And I get that Chloe crossed the line." At that, he shot said girl a stern look. "But she's a spoiled girl and her dad won't let you go if you so much as touch her."

"Stupid rich kid." Marinette unconsciously mumbled. It was too late for her brain to stop her and she caught her mouth with her hands, horrified. "I-I-I'm so sorry I didn't mean you, I meant Chloe! You may be rich b-but you aren't stupid! I was definitely not implying it to you!"

The bell rang overhead.

Marinette had never been so relieved for class to start. Uttering another apology to a confused Adrien, she sprinted up the stairs and slumped into her seat. Next to her, Alya pretended to be busy with her phone. Sighing, Marinette tapped her shoulder. "Don't be mad." She whispered.

"Not mad."

"You so are."

Class was dull and busy at the same time. Dull because Alya still wouldn't speak. Busy because the extra amount of questions in their textbook drilled a headache into their heads. Marinette sighed halfway through the lecture, sneaking glances at Alya. Sometimes the other girl would mimic the gesture and they'd lock eyes for a split second, but that was it. No talking whatsoever.

She hadn't been lying when she said the bakery needed her. Her dad already had his hands full with bread-making. Her mom had tried working just a couple of days ago and it ended with her having a high fever. It was only last night Marinette had seen her out of bed, preparing a small dinner for the family. No, she refused to let Sabine work overtime.

Looking at the poster again, he resolve wavered. A break-dance competition. Thousands of Euros. With a team of four, the money could still be split and she'd have enough to sustain her life for months. She could get the medical treatment Sabine needed. Sabine could be healthy again.

And the opportunity to dance again. God, she missed it. When the bakery was eerie, she'd grab her headphones and turn up her favorite songs. It wasn't merely a few times where her parents caught her popping a few numbers behind the counter. She still loved to do it, she's never really stopped, and she always sought any chances she could get to just let the rhythm flow through her veins. The sensations it brought to her body was better than any drug, and more addicting as well.

Though a part of her mind scolded her for being selfish. Dancing was just a hobby. Her parents needed her to focus on school and their family store. Those two were the only things that mattered. Dancing had to be third on her list of priorities.

The last period was wasted with her reciting song lyrics.

Dropping her head to the desk, she groaned. School. Bakery. Focus. Dammit, girl, focus.

Alya was up and out in a blink of an eye. She didn't even get to invite her for lunch. Shouldering her pink bag, she followed after her into the courtyard. Alya sat with her legs crossed under a tree, sandwich poised in front of her mouth. She huffed and turned away when Marinette joined her.

The afternoon breeze swept her hair aside and brought a somewhat cozy feeling to her skin. She let her eyes close for a minute and laid back on the tree's trunk. The sun shone brightly and bathed them in warmth. The dense sheet of leaves above blocked any unwanted heat. It was a wonderful day.

A faint sound echoed in her ears. From Alya's phone, Demi Lovato sang the first words of Really Don't Care. Opening one eye, Marinette watched as Alya bobbed her head to the melody. Occasionally, she would catch her leg shaking and her arms moving about. Chewing on her sandwich, Alya continued her game of ignoring her best friend.

Marinette bit her lip and tried to nibble on the cookies that she had brought to get her attention away from the music.

 _Even if the stars and moon collide_

 _I never want you back into my life_

Little did she know, her foot was already tapping against the grass. She ate another cookie and leaned her body closer to Alya. The other girl smirked but didn't move.

 _You can take your words and all your lies_

 _Oh, oh, oh, I really don't care_

At the last sentence, the two girls sang it together, giggling. Marinette stood up and extended a hand to her. Grabbing it and hoisting herself up, they left their things on the ground and twirled around each other once before swishing their hips in time with the beat. Hand in her hair, Alya snapped her other arm out and made a gesture like she was pulling Marinette with a rope. She in turn hopped sideways and folded herself forward, whipping her pigtails and letting her fingers scrape the air. Bringing them back to her hips, she crouched low and popped back up in a series of shakes and fluttering clothes.

Alya laughed, a sweet sound emanating from the inside, and jerked her legs in fast motions that brought her closer to the soil. On her knees, she fanned her hands over her shoulders, waist, and doubled over before flowing back up in one fluid wave of her body.

A crowd was starting to form around them. Some of the upperclassmen whistled and cheered. Their classmates ushered them to bring on a comeback as the final lyrics ended in a blur. The next song played, fast and rough and entrancing. The people around them clapped their hands and whooped as they broke out of their shells and brought the bundled up energy up and into their beings. They showed it in the way they swirled and pushed, jumped and swayed, and the way they panted for breath that they couldn't need any less. Their blood boiled and their minds buzzed with every passing notes. Like Marinette had said, this was more addicting than any drug.

Alya flipped backwards, around and around, and landed flawlessly. The audience screamed and escalated their enthusiasm. Like a challenge, Alya turned her nose up and tweaked a single finger at her friend.

More than happy to oblige, Marinette brought both legs up from under her and landed on one hand, kicking her feet in different directions. When she fell, she swung like a blade and slashed at the space between her and the ground. Another clap of bewilderment and fascination. She cocked her head and grinned.

The second song ended. The field went still.

A boy clapped first, followed by another, and in less than a second the others boomed.

"That was awesome!"

"How'd you guys learn those dance tricks?"

"Can you teach us sometimes?"

"Encore! Encore!"

It was impossible for them to smile any wider. The adrenaline still pulsed in their heads. They still trembled with excitement. The high of the music and the adoration from their spectators put them at the edge of a cliff, and damn it to hell if they weren't tempted to leap.

Alya held Marinette's hand and bowed. Dazed, the other girl did the same.

Maybe the competition wasn't a bad idea after all. The thought kept occurring to the point she literally couldn't think about anything else. At work, she mixed up a few orders, accidentally writing cocoa instead of chocolate, and she got the baking soda and the sugar powder all switched up. To wrap the day up, she forgot about her chemistry homework.

It was half an hour before closing time. She didn't even bother grabbing her textbook from upstairs. She'd just pull an all-nighter and get it done. In the midst of distress, Sabine poked her head from the hallway. "Honey," She crooned. "Are you okay?"

Her head snapped up in alert. "Mom! Why are you out of bed?" Rushing over, she held her mother at the shoulders.

"Ah, I just wanted to check up on you." She smiled. "So, how are things going at school?"

"I-I'm doing fine, mom. Please, let me take you upstairs─"

Sabine waved a dismissive hand. "You always say that. Tell me in more detail. How's that boy Adrien?"

A blush formed over her cheeks. "I haven't really made any progress. He's just so… magnificent. Kind. Charming. Oh, mom, you should've seen him today!"

"Yes?"

"He helped me this morning. I was kind of, uh, emotional and frustrated with a friend. He actually took hold of my shoulders!" To emphasize her point, she reenacted the scene with herself as Adrien and her mother as Marinette. She held her shoulders from behind and gave her a small squeeze. Sabine giggled heartily.

"The handsome prince did that?"

"Yeah!"

Sabine's hand flew to her mouth, and Marinette's first thought was that she was laughing again. But instead a cough racked her entire body, sending her in a fit of shuddering and wheezing. "Mom!" Panic seized Marinette, wormed its way under her skin and made her shudder. "Papa! _Papa_!"

She hazily heard her father's heavy steps. She hazily saw her mom being swept off her feet and into her room. She hazily registered that she followed them inside.

Tom fussed with the blankets for a minute and gave his wife a pill and a cup of water. "Drink." He murmured.

Gulping the medicine down, Sabine sighed. "Thank you. I'm fine now." She touched his cheek affectionately. He grabbed it in response and kissed the inside of her wrist, an old habit that they shared.

Marinette was unmoving at the foot of the bed. Tears pricked at her eyes, threatening to spill. She fisted her hands and bit her cheeks to suppress it. If she cried, stopping would be almost impossible. She rested a shaking hand on her mother's ankle. "Get better, mom." She whispered, her voice cracking at the end. "Please, just get better." A drop fell on the mattress. She rubbed her eyes furiously, but it only made matters worse. A sob escaped her mouth, tiny and regretful, and the dam finally broke and she found herself in the arms of her father. He stroked her back and hair, but the sadness and pain kept welling up. Her chest felt like it was about to burst. The agonizing image of her mother in the hospital three months prior, an oxygen mask maintaining her consciousness and weird tubes hooked into her arms. She never wanted to see that ever again.

"Give her to me."

"Sabine…"

"Go lock up the store. I'll watch her."

The door creaked open and closed. An invisible string pulled her towards her mother's awaiting hug. She laid there beside her, struggling with her emotions while at the same time releasing the pressure from the day to Sabine's shoulder. Warm and familiar, the woman embraced her and said nothing.

It was almost ten when she decided to get up and let her parents get some rest. She kissed them both on the cheek, lingering a moment longer for her mom, and bolted down the corridor to her room. Once the door was securely locked, she thumped her head back on the wood and exhaled sharply. It was clear now. Her resolve was as solid as a stone.

Picking up her phone, she punched in a series of numbers and waited. "Hello?" Alya purred from the other line.

"Count me in."

She could hear the grin forming even with the distance between them. "I knew you'd cave. Let's talk about the details tomorrow."

That night, she couldn't sleep. Well, it was a good thing because she could do her homework without any trouble. And the extra time she had was good to let her think, too. Yes, there will be lies. Her parents couldn't find out or else she'll never listen to another beat ever again. Undercover was the way to go. Sneak out, practice, go to the club, and come back home before anyone noticed she was gone. She was going to dance like her life depended on it. She was going to bring home the money.


	2. Chapter 2

**Can you guys guess who the two other members are?**

Marinette had no idea how many more hugs she could take before her own skeleton ejects from her skin. For the whole morning, she had been power-arms-wrapped by Alya and, though it was nice in a few ways, she really needed oxygen.

Untangling herself for the tenth time, Marinette crossed her arms in front of her. "I get it, I get it, you're excited -"

"Hell yeah, I am!"

"But we really need to talk about the competition." At this, Alya's brain snapped to life and she nodded, completely serious. "First… why hide who we are? It's a competition, not a mafia party."

"Nino told me about that." Alya said. "They want to make it a point that all they're gonna see is our dance and _not_ who we are as a person. The judges also want to be fair so they're not gonna know who their friends are in the dance off."

Marinette nodded, the gears in her head turning with every word.

"If we reveal our identities in any way, the whole team will be disqualified. So, just for that, I thought of a way we can hide our faces!"

"Which is?"

"Paint. Or make-up. I prefer the latter, but greasepaint works too and you won't waste too much time applying it."

"Gotcha. I'll get the paint on my way home. What else?"

"Just wear anything that you can move freely in. They don't have a dress code so feel free to come in nude." Marinette pinched her. "Kidding! And… oh yeah, before I forget, we're gonna need some place to train. I found this wicked dance studio online." She tapped her phone a few times before showing it to her. "It says that a lot of Paris's famous dancers were born there! We gotta check it out."

Scrolling through the article, she saw pictures of the huge building. It was tall and grand, the walls decorated with bright colors and splashes of white that reflected the sun's light over the street. The studio's name, _Miraculous Steps_ , glittered at the top in blue and red streaks. "How are we going to afford this?"

"Well, according to the FAQ, it's downright cheap. Are you game?"

"Yeah. Yeah, totally. This place seriously rocks, Alya. Great work at surfing the internet." She gave her a brief fist-bump. "When are we gonna swing by?"

"Maybe the night after auditions? The first night at the club is a breeze, as Nino had put it. We should do just fine with our current jams."

"And who will be the third and fourth members?"

Alya opened her mouth, paused, and closed it again.

"You didn't even think about it?" She asked incredulously.

"It's a small thing to worry about! I forgot!"

"Uh, for your info, it's an important thing!" She sighed and worried her bottom lip. "How are we going to find two more people to join by the end of the day?"

"Relax, it's an easy task!" Alya shrugged. "Look, we're having P.E today. We'll just scan the crowd for anyone worthy and then _bam,_ we welcome them aboard!"

The bell rang at the same as she grumbled, "Easier said than done, genius."

Time flew and they soon found themselves in the girls' changing room. Marinette tried to keep her eyes opened, but honestly, it was like finding a needle in a haystack. Alya's earlier instructions were just, "Keep calm and find us some potential dancers."

Said girl was standing at the far end of the room, talking to Mylene. They looked like they were in a heated discussion by the way Alya kept waving her arms in the air like she was trying to play an overly-energized game of charades. Mylene just stared at her, dumbfounded.

Marinette let a breath out and gave each girl a once over. Nothing really stood out. She sometimes saw a flattering bra that caught her interest and she mentally noted down the colors and shape for future purchases, but other than that she didn't see anyone who could have a hint of interest in break dancing. At least, not visibly.

Giving up on the sneaky approach, she decided to adopt her friend's method and walked over to Alix. She was her first guess because the short girl had amazing speed and fluent moves on the skates. Maybe she applied that to dances? "Hey," Marinette smiled.

"Yo, whatup?" Alix raised her head in greeting. She placed her cap on her head and fixed her hair. "I've noticed that you and Alya have been stalking us all day."

She blanched but kept her composure. "Oh! That, umm… we were just… n-no, really?" She giggled nervously. Yup, her smooth composure sure was strong.

Alix laughed, entirely amused. "Hey, gotta have our bisexual days, am I right?"

"Err, totally."

"Alright, so, ya got something to talk about?"

She swallowed before blurting out, "Can you dance?"

A pause. A blink. "Seriously?"

She nodded stiffly.

"Huh." She leaned her back on the metal locker behind her, deep in thought.

"I-I'm so sorry if that came out too bold."

"Nahh, not that, pigtails." She adjusted her cap, paused, and continued, "Just that another person asked me the same thing earlier."

"Really?"

"Yeah. And now you're askin' me. Is this about tonight's dancing competition at the Akuma joint?"

"Yes!" Marinette couldn't help but bounce from one foot to the other, giddy. "Are you thinking of participating?"

"Yup."

"Fantastic!"

"But, I already have a team."

Marinette froze. Her face must've looked pathetic because Alix was frantically waving her hands in front of her like she had made a kid cry in the playground. "Sorry, man, but someone asked me first! If you'd offered an hour ago, I'd be all to help you out."

"Thanks anyways, Alix." Marinette slumped her shoulders. "See you tonight, I suppose?"

"If you can see through my disguise." She punched her shoulder lightly and saluted.

It was too bad. The girl might've been a big influence on the team. Shaking out of her disappointment, Marinette looked out for any other girls who could be an option. When it was time to go to the gym, she fell into step with Alya and asked, "How'd your search go?"

"Bad." She mumbled. "Mylene dances, but the little cotton ball doesn't do it competitively."

"Ouch. Well, my end turned kinda sour, too. Alix joined another team a little while ago. We didn't ask her fast enough."

Alya winced. "Damn. She's a tough rival. I've seen her floorwork. She's good."

The gym was vast and smelled of wet socks. The little squeaks that the sleek floor and their sneakers made was the only sound that distracted her. Half of the day had flown out of the window faster than she had anticipated. If they couldn't find anyone before school ended, then it'd all be for nothing. The rules were crystal clear that the members had to be whole and present tonight for the sign-up and auditions. She even considered getting her dad into it if things got exceedingly desperate. And her dad could barely do the wave.

She pinched the bridge of her nose, willing her mind to calm down and stop making horrific scenes of Tom in spandex. They had to find members _fast._ Peering across the group of teens huddled together, she measured them up and thought about the possibilities. Nino was the DJ and hence one of the judges. His name was the first one to be crossed in their list. Mylene and Alix weren't available anymore.

Like magnets to metal, her eyes locked on Adrien sitting on one of the long benches. He was immersed in a conversation with Nino.

Blood exploded into her head. Turning away quickly, she struggled to keep her heartbeat steady. He was good. Extremely good. In fact, he might be the best dancer in the entire school. He had the right education, technique, and skill to pull off any routine thrown at him.

She dug her nail into her thigh in attempt to pull herself back to reality. They wouldn't be able to practice, not with her tripping over and acting like a fool around him. He had that effect on her and she cursed at whatever force that gave it to him. Maybe, just maybe, if she could keep her feelings in check, she could go up to him and ask him to join. Maybe, just _maybe_ , he might even say yes.

Adrien and Marinette, King and Queen of the Dance Floor. It had a nice ring to it.

Again, the bitter truth that that would never happen drowned her as if someone had poured a tub of ice water on her head.

She slapped both cheeks and concentrated. Members. Members. Gotta find them.

The teacher blew on his whistle and ordered them to do laps. Groaning, the class started jogging around the court sluggishly. Ivan was threading behind a little with Mylene a few feet away from him, encouraging him on. She figured that Ivan wouldn't be the dancing type. Chloe was even more behind, pampering her nails while she walked and having Sabrina fan her with a book. Marinette glared for a second. Those two were impossible to work with. Besides, Chloe had made it evident that she loathed their 'vulgar dancing'. She scoffed and tried to get away from the growing flame of anger that abruptly sparked.

Unconsciously, she turned to Adrien again. He was ahead of them by a few meters, his forehead coated with a thin layer of sweat and his chest heaving evenly with each inhale and exhale. His body was clearly well-shaped. There was abundant proof that he was nimble too - she could see it from the way he lifted his foot off the ground like an eagle taking flight. His arms were muscular, probably from all the work outs he always did. Could it be possible that Adrien Agreste also break danced? She had only ever watched him do the slow dances that Chloe was so fond of. But with that kind of physique, it wouldn't be so difficult for him to change course.

She ran into someone and stumbled backwards. Expecting a harsh impact, she screwed her eyes shut and waited. The fall never came. A gloved hand held on tight to her wrist. Her savior returned her balance with a light wrench. Juleka offered a small smile. "Careful." She said.

"Thanks." Marinette sighed in relief. "For a second there I thought I was gonna timber."

"Were you spacing out?"

"Something like that. It's just a dilemma me and Alya are having."

"Oh? Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I can handle it. Hopefully."

Out of the blue, Rose stepped out from behind the emo girl. "You okay, Marinette? Should I get an energy drink for you?"

"No, no, that's fine, Rose. I'm feeling better. Thanks." From the space between the two girls, she saw Alya eyeing her with a raised eyebrow. "I gotta go. Talk to you guys later."

After exchanging quick nods, she hopped over to her best friend and sat down, legs crossed and arms dangling. "Progress?" She inquired.

Alya shook her head in dismay.

Sighing, she propped her chin in her palms. Two more hours before school was out. It sucked, but the end was approaching and their hands were tied behind their backs. Maybe Tom wouldn't look too bad in shorts?

"Should we just go tonight and pick out any random guy off the unwanted crowd?" Alya suggested, already forlorn.

"There's no guarantee that there'll be one. It's a wild goose chase."

"I'm sorry, girl. I should've been more prepared."

"Hey, we still have time. Maybe Nathaneal? Or we could ask one of your sisters?"

"Nathaneal has the dorkiest crush on you. It'd be a miracle if he could shuffle right in the same room with you."

Marinette made a crude noise at her.

"And my little sisters have two left feet. They're not even in to hip-hop."

Whimpering, she lowered her head into her palms, cradling both cheeks.

"I say we still go anyways. They can't say no to the two divas of Paris."

"I wish you could stop joking for a second, Alya." She didn't mean to, but her tone came out a little too sharp.

Just her luck, Alya picked it up with a scowl. "Excuse me? I'm not interested in being a sulky mess. I'm trying to lighten the mood here and if you don't appreciate that-"

"Hey, I didn't say-"

"Yeah, but you clearly implied that. Just so you know, I'm just as stressed as you are but I'm still thinking positive! Can't you do the same?"

Silence descended on them as they looked away from each other. The dark-haired girl exhaled through her nose and laid back on her hands. Perfect. Not only were they short on members, they were also arguing.

When was the last time they had a predicament like this? She had a vague memory of them sitting back to back, arms crossed stubornly as they debated about who would get the last piece of cake. It ended pretty horribly, with Marinette's dress bearing stripes of mustard and Alya's glasses sinking at the bottom of the mini chocolate fountain. And they had a sleepover the same night. She remembered how hard they had guffawed at each others' appearance, snapping pictures and uploading it on their Instagrams. It was as if the fight had never happened and they moved on as soon as they realized how much they needed each other.

Although, with this kind of strain, would it be fitting if they just stayed quiet? They were a team, in more ways than one now. Working together, sharing ideas, splitting the jobs - it was necessary. They can't fall apart. But she felt like the earth underneath her was already cracking and was trying to swallow her whole.

"Hey," Alya nudged her with her sneaker, a shock running through with the contact, but it didn't do much for her enthusiasm. "Girl. Look."

"What?" Marinette murmured, her life slipping through her body.

With not-so-gentle hands, Alya repositioned her head so she was looking at Rosa and Juleka at the far left. They were talking and laughing while Juleka balanced precariously at the edge of the wood and Rose another level higher than her. She was about to ask what was so important until it happened.

Juleka's body tipped sideways. Her feet left the surface of the bench. A shout was trapped in Marinette's throat.

The other girl, though, blew the alarm out from her as she did something extremely unexpected. She landed on both hands, laughed at a clapping Rose, and fell forward. Her right leg extended first and the other one to the opposite direction, body lowering, with such lithe and grace that she rivaled a ballerina, into a jaw-dropping split.

Alya's hands were firm on either side of her head, but she doubted that she could look away.

Rose giggled before doubling over. Marinette thought that she was going to touch her toes, but instead her fingers went lower, right on the bench that Juleka had previously stood. She barely had time to process before the petite girl bended backwards so far that she made it look like she didn't have a single bone inside her and then with the same beauty that Juleka had performed, she landed soundlessly beside the taller girl. Juleka said something to her and the two girls laughed again.

"Tell me that wasn't my imagination." Marinette murmured, still transfixed.

"That wasn't your imagination."

They shared a distraught look with one another before they bolted forward.

It was an understatement to say that they had startled Juleka and Rose with their sudden outburst. They kept pushing each other back and trying to get out words like:

"Get off, I saw them first-"

"I got here first, bitch, now let me-"

"Ow, my foot!"

"Jesus, move or I'll-"

Juleka and Rose backed away to avoid their floundering limbs. "Um," Rose gulped. "C-Can we help you?"

" _Yes_!"

"Okay…" Rose hid behind her taller friend, more than a little abashed, and in turn Juleka patted her head.

Marinette elbowed Alya in the cheek. "Will you guys-"

Alya pulled one of her pigtails. "-Join our dance team?"

A full ten seconds passed. Ten seconds. And no reply.

Alya let go of Marinette's hair. Marinette lowered her arm. The both of them coughed sheepishly, toeing the floor and keeping their hands tight in front of them. "Is that a no?" Alya asked, a nervous grin plastered on.

Juleka and Rose locked eyes for a second, a silent conversation underway. Juleka broke out into an excited jump, pumping her fist in the air and whooping. Rose squealed in pure delight and hopped around like a bunny getting carrots. "Of course we'll join!"

Screaming. Lots of screaming happened.

And because of the ruckus that the four of them made, the teacher had them do fifty push-ups. And it was amazing. Alya kept falling on her boobs from laughing so hard. Rose couldn't even raise herself off the floor because her arms shook with each giggle. Juleka was so galvanized that she didn't even notice that she had done sixty-something push-ups already. Marinette was in the middle of helping Alya breathe when her eyes caught green ones.

Adrien was staring at them, his lips forming a distant chuckle. Their gazes were glued to each other for a few seconds, but it felt like years for Marinette. He offered a kind smile and a wave.

Slowly, as if she was zapped with a slow motion gun, she waved back, a furious blush forming from her ears to her neck.

She still wondered about what it could be like, dancing with him. If they hadn't found Rose and Juleka, would he be willing to join? A rational part of her chided that he was a high-class boy and seeing him in a grimy club would be close to absurd. Crazy, even. He couldn't possibly be interested in the dance competition. As much as she wanted to, she couldn't really comprehend why her mind kept wandering over to him. He was a dancer, yes, but he was in the same zone with Chloe. Elite. Upper crust. The dances he did was unfortunately too far out of their league.

Though, it didn't break her happiness. Smiling all the way home, red greasepaint tucked safely in her bag, she worked harder at the bakery than she usually did. It was the least she could do. She was about to tell the biggest lie to her parents tonight, after all. They deserved her utmost dedication, if only during her shift. She even left her iPod back in her room. Music free, no distractions. No dancing between breaks. Customers were so smitten with her that they had tipped her so handsomely to the point she physically couldn't pocket all the change anymore. Tom tried to avoid her money, saying that the customers had given it to _her,_ but she insisted and dropped every last penny into his hand. They were the ones who deserved it, not her.

When it was time to close up the shop, she lingered for a moment with them on the stairs, kissing them with extra affection. "I love you," She breathed, utterly sincere.

She fought back the tears that threatened to spill as she clambered up to her room, locking it securely behind her.


	3. Chapter 3

Her room was dark, with the exception of the moon above her window. Stars dusted her face, making the deep red greasepaint more prominent on her pale skin. She touched the edge of her makeshift mask, wondering silently whether the disguise would work or not. It rounded her eyes and widened to the middle of her forehead and midway down her nose. It was sloppy work, but she definitely looked different, at least.

She stared at herself in the mirror for a brief minute. A red crop top adorned her chest, black spots dancing over the fabric and leaving her stomach exposed to the chilly air. Cladding her legs was a pair of baggy harem pants, all grey and washed of color. Her red sneakers squeaked on the wooden floor as she spun around and dropped low, landing on one knee and testing out the flexibility of her costume. It didn't restrain a single muscle.

This is it, her mind chanted. This is it.

On her bed were a few pillows carefully stacked underneath a thick blanket, making it look like a lame but passable imitation of her. Pocketing her keys, she made her way to the far wall. Opening the front door at this hour would only prove to be risqué. She knew for a fact that her father liked to watch a soccer game on TV at ten, and Sabine was probably with him. Just a creak of a door could alert them and it would all be over for her before the real battle even began.

Quietly, she unlocked her window and stood on the frame. The long drop down was a bit intimidating, and she might break more than just a few bones, but she had to tough it out. Holding on tight with one hand, she used the other one to reach for a lightpost. It was way too far.

Sighing, she tugged her hair and groaned. She hadn't really thought the whole thing through.

She had to jump.

She gulped and tried to slow down her racing heart. It was half an hour to ten already and if she didn't make a move now, she'd be too late.

Bracing her feet, she leaped and made a wild grab for the lightpost's metal pole. She suppressed a fearful shrill as she descended down, thankful that she was wearing gloves even though they were fingerless.

She would have loved to say that she had landed gracefully on the pavement, but in reality she almost broke her butt after a somewhat safe fall.

It didn't help her that the club was blocks away from her house. She didn't risk any breaks as she wove around Paris's many streets and into the darker parts of the city. The neighborhood was a narrow, damp old place with few lights lining the way. She hurried along as she passed a group of youths lurking in the shadows.

To her surprise, a few police cars were parked here and there, some with the red and blue lights on, and a couple of officers were guarding the perimeter, weapons at the ready. She let herself relax a bit.

Ducking, she scanned the buildings and kept a lookout for the club's sign. She faintly heard a bass beat as she neared the corner. In this area, three policemen were sitting on a bench and eating donuts as if they were in a coffee shop talking about the weather. Marinette stared at them and smiled politely when one of them turned.

"The Akuma?" The policemen tilted his head.

"Um, yeah." Marinette said. "Is it around here, sir?"

"The second building from the end. Be careful in these parts, though. It could get pretty dangerous, especially with this new club in the district."

"Oh, don't scare the girl, Matt." His friend chided. "It's alright miss, we officers are gonna wipe this place clean from any sort of crime, don't you worry."

"Thank you." Marinette nodded. "Have a good night."

Sure enough, bright purple lights lined the words 'The Akuma' in artistic lines and curves, and at the bottom of the sign was a design of a butterfly. The walls were painted jet black with colorful graffiti decorating the bricks like brand names. From the vibrating stone under her feet, Marinette could tell, with a hint of excitement, that the music inside definitely wasn't coming from just a few tiny stereos.

But her insides twisted uncomfortably when she took in the dozens of people waiting outside.

Nino had been pumped and bragged that their first night would absolutely be a hit, though it didn't prepare her for all these competitors. From his short briefing, he had said that all contestants had to be on standby at the door and not come in before the clock struck ten. Her watch told her that there was still ten minutes left.

She tried to find Alya in the throng of bodies, struggling to spot her fiery hair, but there were too many people. Like herself, they wore something to hide their faces. Some were wearing bandanas over their noses and mouths, some wore masquerade-like masks, and some even went as far as painting their entire faces in outrageous colors. Alya, Rose, and Juleka could be any of them.

Marinette shrugged before fishing out her phone and dialing Alya. Might as well try. Besides, her best friend never went anywhere without her smartphone.

"Yo, where are you?" Alya's voice flitted through the contraption.

"I have a better question." Marinette said. "What the hell do you look like? I can't find you."

"Pssshh. The hottest one there, obviously."

"Haha." Marinette mumbled an apology when she accidentally bumped into someone. "Seriously, Alya─"

"Hey, keep it down!" The other girl hissed. "Don't expose me before we've even started!"

"Oops. Sorry. So, it's…?"

"Lady Wifi." She smirked. "Cool, right?"

"Totally." She wriggled between a couple of girls and continued her aimless search. "I'm… uhh…" She looked down at her attire and wracked her brain for any names. Polka dots? No, too ridiculous. Black and Red? No, too long. She touched the hem of her crop top and bit her bottom lip. "I guess you could call me… Ladybug."

"Alright, Ladybug. What are you wearing? I'll come and find you."

"I can manage to find you faster if you─" Her head clashed with something hard. Mewling in pain, she rubbed her forehead and blinked away the abrupt dizziness. "Watch where you're─"

Marinette stopped her voice when she saw who the person was. A girl with chocolate skin and messy hair tied into a ponytail stood in front of her. She wore a black tank top under a too-big "I Love Wifi" shirt, completed with a pair of black, white striped shorts and sports shoes. Rubber bracelets circled and bounced on both her wrists as she rubbed her face. It was then that Marinette noticed the black eye shadow around her eyes like glasses without support.

Triumph, Marinette shut her phone. "Found you." She grinned.

"Whoa, girl," Lady Wifi pocketed her own gadget before giving her best friend a hug. "You dressed up!"

"And you look like a raccoon."

A pinch to her sides.

"Kidding! You look awesome. I wouldn't have recognized you if it weren't for that shirt and uh," Ladybug pointed at the two wifi pins fastened in her hair. "Yeah, cool accessories, by the way."

"It completes the costume. But mine doesn't hold a candle to these guys." She indicated the others around them with her chin. "I mean, shit, get a load of that."

She was right. A lot of them had apparently planned the whole thing out, starting with some wardrobe assessments. Some teams already had signature hoodies, wild caps, dyed-up hair with matching colors, and one of them was even bathed with bling. Ladybug winced. "That can't be comfortable to dance in."

"I swear, half of these chicks are coming here just to hook up." The redhead crinkled her nose in distaste when a girl wearing nothing but undergarments passed by. "This is hip-hop, not a strip tease."

"Just forget them." Ladybug turned her head. "Anyways, where are─"

"Lady Wifi!" Someone from the crowd shouted. "Did you find her?"

"Oh, yo, over here!" Lady Wifi waved her arms high in the air.

A small girl emerged in the middle of them, grunting and puffing, and raised a gloved hand. "Hello!" She chirped. "Do you recognize me, Mar- ahh, Ladybug?"

The girl had short blonde hair, obviously gelled as it spiked at every direction, and huge blue eyes that twinkled between a thick sheet of pink paint. The holes of her cream-colored shirt were large enough that she could catch sight of a fashionable bra. Her tight-fitting pink pants ended on her shins, and stitched to the pocket was a pattern in the shape of a perfume bottle. Tiny dance shoes covered the soles of her feet with little bows attached on top.

"Princess Fragrance, at your service." She bowed before giggling.

Ladybug's jaw dropped. Leaning in hastily, she whispered-cried, "Rose?!"

"Yup."

"Oh my…" A grin broke her face as she let out a breath. "God."

Rose blushed and tucked a strand of hair behind her ears. "I got too excited and went kinda overboard."

"You look great." Ladybug squeezed her friend's shoulder. "Feel free to get overboard on the dance floor while you're at it."

"Where's Reflekta?" Lady Wifi piped up. "They're gonna open soon."

"Oh, right." Princess Fragrance tugged at something behind her. "Hey, it's okay, you can come out."

"I feel embarrassed." A low voice replied.

"Nonsense! You look beautiful."

"You're saying that because you're the one who styled me."

"Stop being ridiculous." She tugged again. "Come out."

A pause, and then a sigh. "Fine."

Reflekta was not-so-obviously Juleka alright. It wasn't because she could actually tell by her features per-se, with the only physical indications of said girl being the streak of purple in her dark hair. Other than that, she was another person. Her usually long bangs were braided to the side, giving them a full picture of the impossibly-detailed painting of gears around her eyes. A black blouse was tied at the middle, her thin stomach on display, and a hint of a purple tube top peeking through. An old pair of jeans had been cut short and it hugged her curves perfectly. Purple sneakers and a single glove completed her outfit.

"This is Reflekta." Lady Wifi pointed a thumb at her. "And I dare say that she may be the only one here that can rival my sexiness."

"Absolutely." Ladybug nodded appreciatively. "Stop being so shy, Reflekta. You're a total knock-out."

"I don't really care all that much about appearance." The girl said. "But it makes PF happy. And that matters to me."

Beside her, Princess Fragrance blushed and pushed her playfully.

It wasn't long until the big double doors burst open, revealing three men in glow-in-the-dark hoodies, headphones hugging each of their necks like a collar. The entire group clapped and whooped as deafening music slithered out to the sidewalk. One of them, cladded in more random colors than the other two, stepped forward and raised his hands for silence. When the roar of cheers died down, he said, "Yo, b-boys and b-girls!"

Another chorus of shouts, a few whistles and a few meows.

"I'm sure y'all are stoked for this night as the rest of us. The name's Bubbler, and on behalf of the Akuma nightclub, I welcome you to Paris' sickest Battle of the Moves!"

Ladybug stomped her feet along with her teammates, ecstatic, as they screamed their gratitude. This was actually happening.

"You guys know the basics of this competition already. Do not, under any circumstances, reveal your identities because if you do, you and your team will be ultimately kicked out of the line. Battle of the Moves is strictly about your moves and nothing else, and we judges want to make sure of that."

The second DJ raised his hand. This guy was cladded in black and streaks of glowing grey. "Which brings us to the more specific details of the competition. Your team will go head-to-head with another random team, and your goal is to collect as many scores from the judges ─ that's us, btw ─ and climb your way to the top of the list."

Bubbler continued, "The battles are also switched from time to time. Tonight, it's a one-man battle which means you're going solo on the dance floor. Next week, who knows? It might be a team battle, two-on-two, or whatever shit we judges roll on you."

The last DJ stepped up. He was a bit brighter than the two, with his hoodie white and a few jagged lines of light blue lining his sleeves like odd-colored lightning bolts. "The last bit of info you might find interesting is the ranks. As my friend Copycat had explained, your goal is to get to the top. Wanna know the perks of it during your time at the club?" He grinned when the contestants beyond him shouted a yes. "The three top teams will get unlimited drinks at the bar, completely free of charge!"

The older kids went nuts at that; yelling out incorrigible words that weren't suitable for a youngster's ears, throwing their hands in the air and jumping on pure energy.

"Yo, wait, Pixelator!" Copycat immediately interjected with a frantic wave. "Alcohol is strictly for eighteen and up ages, folks!"

Nearly half of them whined out a long 'boo'. Ladybug just shrugged, followed by her teammates.

Bubbler in turn laughed and gestured widely at the door behind them. "Well, whatcha bitches doin' down there? Get in the club and dance!"

"Single file, everyone!" Copycat sighed.

Without being told twice, everyone ran through the doors.

The club was vast, dark, and ridiculously loud. The song playing through the speakers vibrated the entire building, making the walls pulse like a vein. A small bar was located at the far side, the counter lit up with blue neon lights, girls in tight clothes serving the ever-growing customers. Over at the DJ booth, which was at another level higher than the dance floor, an older woman was bobbing to the beat, her fingers flipping and turning a few switches on her equipment. Most of the contestants weren't patient enough to wait for the three other DJs as they pushed onwards to the middle of the club, raising their arms in the air and laughing into the darkness. Thanks to the dots of colorful light flying around the room, Ladybug could maneuver herself and her team to the side, gripping the railings that separated them from the dance floor.

The instinct to just jump and be one with the masses of dancers was excruciatingly tempting, but she held it at bay, reminding herself that these people were her competitors, and it'd be a good idea to observe.

She was about to say something to the other girls when someone collided with her shoulder. Stumbling back, she huffed and glanced up at the stranger.

Green eyes greeted her underneath a dark hoodie, the upper half of his face smeared with black. For a second, their gazes locked, and just like that, he turned away and continued walking.

The others, however, didn't notice the brief eye contact. "Let's get down there and groove, girl!" Lady Wifi screamed to be heard over the echo of noise surrounding them. "What are we waiting for?!"

"Yeah, come on, Ladybug." Reflekta nudged her.

Ladybug blinked away the mysterious fog from her mind, hastily brushing it off with a shrug. "I was thinking that we should watch for a minute," she replied, "see what we're up against, you know? It wouldn't hurt to just─"

"Oh, _come on_ , Ladybug!" Lady Wifi pointed below. "There's plenty of that once the first round starts! Let loose already! _Dance_!" At the last word, the redhead pulled on her wrist, guiding her to the stairs. She didn't have time to protest when they descended because her teammates were already jumping up and cheering, Princess Fragrance doing a sort of victory twirl and a flip, landing once again so gracefully on her shoes. Reflekta wasn't too far off, having embraced the pumping atmosphere and doing her own routine that seemed to be a mix of hip-hop and ballet. Her feet were light, less stomping and more gliding, as if she was walking on a cloud. Lady Wifi, though, was all power. Her hair flew about her face, hips swishing and hands pushing out, and Ladybug realized that the bracelets adorning her wrists were actually glow-in-the-dark, which made her movements all the more vigorous.

And she had to admit. They were all having so much fun, so much freedom to being who they were – dancers. At home, there was just so much dancing that she could squeeze in, and so limited space to leap and spin, but at Akuma, it was everything that she could ask for.

Once the song looped back to its electronic rhythm, Ladybug's soul broke loose.

It started from her fingers, the bones in them nearly nonexistence as they moved atop invisible piano keys, up her shoulders and down her hips, until the heat burst and wrapped her in a coat of fire, and she let all of her limbs work in tandem. Her sneakers flew over the floor, not exactly as elegant Reflekta's were, but it wrote a message on the smooth surface of the ground, saying the _she was here._ Ladybug – Marinnete Dupain-Cheng – was here to rock and rule over any song they threw at her. She was here and ready to soar, each kick and wave filled with purpose to take her higher and higher.

Ladybug spun and dropped to her hands, letting her legs become blades above her as she never let the momentum leave her body. Returning to her feet, she met back with her group, the four of them working a synchronized harmony.

The look of sheer glee on all of their faces was enough to bury the remaining guilt that had followed her from home, if only for the night.

And then she saw it. A flash of green.

Tearing her eyes from her friends, she looked at something behind Princess Fragrance's head. Another group stood a good distance away from them, but she could recognize the hoodie, if only because of the strange neon-green strips decorating the edges. It was the stranger that had bumped into her earlier. It was absurd, she chided herself though. Lots of people wore black hoodies, and she hadn't even gotten the chance to study him any further other than his intense eyes. But when the person flicked his head to her direction, she knew that she wasn't mistaken.

The same eyes locked on hers, and it was incredible, considering the dully lit club that they were in, that she could make that small detail out. Clearly a boy, he was definitely looking at her, if the small smirk that tugged his mouth was anything to go by. She didn't let herself be fazed, instead daring him to be the first one to look away. He didn't.

She couldn't help but examine his attire, letting her stare drift up from his green sneakers and black pants, further still to the black T-shirt portraying a green paw print, and finally to his head. Locking eyes again, he seemed to notice her taking in his appearance, and his smirk grew wider, a single eye winking at her. She held her chin high in response, making sure he saw her unimpressed expression.

"Yo, Mari," Lady Wifi elbowed her, successfully jolting her back to reality. "You okay in there?"

"I… I'm fine." She glanced quickly at the boy, and found that he was still focused on her.

"What are you looking at?" Princess Fragrance asked before turning her own head.

"Nothing!" Ladybug squeaked a little too loudly. "It's nothing, PF. Really."

"You're acting weird," her best friend said skeptically.

Just as she was about to reply, the sound of a microphone being tapped replaced the pounding music. She sighed in relief, careful to not alert her group. She wanted to look again, to see if the stranger was still there, but thought better of it. It wasn't a good idea, she concluded, at least not with Alya's pestering curiosity.

"You had your fun," Pixelator spoke, "but now is the time to get the losers out of the way."

"Dude, really?" Copycat sighed beside him, yanking the microphone away from him. "Sorry about this asshole. Don't mind him." Pixelator gave him the finger, one which Copycat didn't catch. "Anyways, it's time for the first round to start. Team captains, if you would please pick a piece of paper from that bowl," he pointed to Bubbler, who was holding said object, "then that'd be awesome."

"That's your cue," Ladybug gripped her best friend's shoulder.

"Nahh, girl." Lady Wifi waved her off. " _You're_ the captain here, missy."

"Say _what_?"

Reflekta gave her an encouraging push, while Princess Fragrance held up her thumbs.

Gulping, she climbed up the stairs and over to where the judges stood. She cursed when a few people pushed her aside, scowling at the backs of their heads before attempting to squeeze through. But despite her small size, she couldn't get in. She sighed and decided that she'd have to be a model citizen and queue.

In the midst of her mini-sulking, someone whistled next to her. "Team captain too, huh?" Stranger-boy asked her.

She was only stunned for a split second before she cocked her hip, eyeing him up. He was tall, she mused, and his hair was messy and blond, the locks plastered to his forehead from sweat. She held in a giggle when she caught sight of what seemed to be cat ears perched on top of his hood. A kid at heart, perhaps? Or a cat lover? "Did you expect me to be something else, kitty?" She poked the paw print pattern on his chest.

"Wouldn't dream of it." He leaned down then, his breath close to her ear. "I liked your dance." He whispered huskily.

Ladybug couldn't contain the shiver that ran down her spine, struggling to regain her composure. She pushed him back with a finger to his cheek. "Thank you." She replied curtly.

"Hey, relax. I don't bite." He shrugged, grinning. "At least, not if you don't want me to."

She rolled her eyes. "A Casanova, are you?"

"Depends." He touched his upper arm to hers, again whispering in her ear, "Is my charm working on you…?"

"Ladybug." Thinking that she couldn't stop his flirtatious antics, she decided to play his game. Standing on her tiptoes, she blew a gust of hot air at his sensitive skin, smiling wickedly when she saw him shudder. "You can call me Ladybug, _minou._ "

"It's Chat Noir, actually." She instantly regretted her choice of action, as he immediately took it as a go sign to be handsy. His gloved hand snaked around her waist and pulled her closer, making her suck in a sharp gasp. "What do you say we dance together later─"

"Uh, no." Ladybug disentangled herself from him, throwing in a glare for good measure. "I'll stick with my team. Thanks for the invite, alley cat."

"Ouch. You wound me, my lady." He stepped again to her side, keeping some space between them this time, but still a bit too chummy for her taste. "But my invitation still stands. Don't get your ass kicked out of here before you say yes."

"I wasn't planning on losing the first round. And I wasn't planning on saying yes."

"Oh, I'll find a way. After all," he smirked, "I'd like to see those moves you have a bit more closely before the night ends."

Sending him one last glance, she scoffed.


End file.
